A Little Closure
by AdmHawthorne
Summary: Follow up to "A Little Family" Jane and Maura go back to the cabin and visit the town. There is strong language in this story. Rizzles. Cowritten with Googlemouth
1. Chapter 1

**Sequel to "A Little Family", this is what happens next. We will_ not_ be continuing on. This is the last story in this series. Googlemouth and I are very proud of this story line, and we're glad you all have enjoyed it.**

**As always, the characters aren't ours. The belong to Tess, TNT, and other such lucky people.**

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><p>"Okay, everything's packed, the kids are with Ma and Pop, we're going shopping at Bobby's for food when we get there, and Paul's cool with us snatching the truck for a little while. I think we're ready." Jane secured the last of the luggage in the truck bed. "Are you ready, Babe?"<p>

Two months had passed since Angela's birthday party, and everything seemed to be settling down. Work was still a bit difficult, but the women were working through it and dealing with the harassment as it came. For the most part, things continued on as business as usual, which Jane was eternally grateful for. However, after fighting the good fight for a while, the detective was ready for a break.

She had put in for a week off and had Maura do the same. It was quickly granted. The Brass had said something about them not taking enough time off anyway, and no one questioned that they needed the down time. So, Friday evening after work they packed, and they were heading out on Saturday morning. That would give them over a week of peace somewhere that was not Boston.

Jane bounded down from the back of the truck, straightened her shirt, and smiled at her outfit. _I can't believe I'm getting away with wearing a black pearl snap shirt. I love this shirt. Short sleeves, thin, doesn't get hot…so what if it's a little worn at the bottom? It matches the hole in the knee of jeans and the scuffs on my boots._ She smirked. "Babe?" The brunette looked around in search of her girlfriend.

Maura stepped outside with her oldest overnight bag, the most battered thing she owned, and paused in the doorway so that Jane would be able to appreciate what she was doing for her. Blue jeans with the worn spot, which Jane liked _because_of the worn spot, with a chunkier than usual belt; knee high boots, worn in enough that she wouldn't look like a complete, shiny-new greenhorn no matter where they found themselves; a black tank top that didn't quite reach the top of her jeans; silver and turquoise jewelry. She looked casual. Not quite butch, not even really sporty, but she looked like she could go for miles if she chose to stir herself.

Once the effect had been noted, she trotted over for a quick kiss, then leaped into the back of the truck to secure the bag in the covered lock-box, just in case of rain. "This time, I'm not going to be caught without something I can wear in public," she explained, standing tall in the truck bed. "Okay, I'm ready. Help me down?" She did not need the help; she just wanted Jane's hands on her.

"Yes." Jane reached up and wrapped her hands around Maura's waist to guide her down, then pulled her into a kiss. "I love those jeans on you," she growled between kisses. "Shirt's awesome, too."

Jane made it so hard for Maura not to respond as she wanted. _God, that growl,_ she thought as she pressed herself into that long, lean body for an extended moment, causing a teenaged neighbor boy and two of his friends to drive their skateboards right into each other and a mailbox. Maura didn't noticed. "Good. If you're able to get us to the property in one piece, I'll let you love them _off_ of me, too. Well, after we've stopped in so I can meet your other family."

"Once we make it to the property?" Jane's eyes slid down the doctor's frame. "I noticed you didn't say, 'once we make it to the cabin'." She smirked, not bothering to acknowledge the dropped jaws and gurgling noises from the teens now scattered about the sidewalk. "I see what you're doing there, Dr. Isles, and," one last kiss before she stepped away to climb into the truck, "I like where you're going with that." She glanced to the side to give the boys a warning look. They quickly scattered.

Maura wiggled unrepentant eyebrows. "You heard me," she said as she swung up into the truck seat and pulled closed the door. "It worked out really nicely last time, and while I do love trying new things," and wasn't _that_ the truth, "it's also a good idea to revisit previous successes now and again."


	2. Chapter 2

"Well, well, well… what do we have here? Christmas must have come early."

"Hey, Bobby, we're here to stock up, not wipe the drool off your chin." Jane and Maura smiled at the old man behind the counter as they walked into the general store. It was their first stop of the day.

"Does that mean you two are going to walk around the store for a little bit?" The old man wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as she chewed on a toothpick.

"Only if you're good and stop ogling my girlfriend's assets." Jane winked at the old man as she wrapped an arm around Maura's waist.

"You wouldn't take away an old man's good times, now would you Miss Jane? After all, I got to get my kicks where I can. That doesn't happen as often as it used to." He smiled his partly toothless smile as his gaze swung to meet the doctor's eyes. "Miss M, you wouldn't let her take away my fun, now would you? You don't mind a harmless old man having a little bit of harmless fun, now do you?" He winked.

Maura's smile was as relaxed as ever, but nevertheless, she said with a wink that matched Jane's for mischief, "I won't stop you from looking or thinking, Bobby. I agree, those things are harmless, and a person has to take what joy they can in the world. If you can't take any pleasure in the sight of a lady like mine, you're not nearly the dirty old man of your repute."

"Oh my God," Jane gave an exaggerated sigh as she rolled her eyes. "Come on, Babe. We have bacon, pancakes, chocolate syrup, and whipped cream to buy." She threw a mischievous and daring look to Bobby who nodded at the challenge.

"Sounds to me like you're missing something on that list," he shot back.

"Yeah, like what?" Jane moved to pull Maura in front of her so she could wrap her arms around the smaller woman.

"Miss Jane, you haven't been spending enough time with this dirty old man if you can't figure that one out on your own. I don't think you'd make much of a detective now would you?" He gave a snort of laughter at Jane's narrowed eyes. "What you're missing on that list of yours and Miss M's is honey." He gave a definitive nod as he pulled one of his hands from the front pocket of his coveralls and pointed. "Aisle 3, over by the chocolate syrup."

"Jane's allergic, but maybe there's something else that would work," Maura replied instantly, gingerly extricating herself from the arms she didn't actually want to leave, then heading in that direction before Jane could protest. More quietly, as if speaking only to herself, her voice floated up from the third aisle, where the condiments and spreads were located. "Ooh, there's maple syrup. Jane? How do you feel about sour and salty flavors, too? There's a salad dressing here that looks delicious."

Bobby was going to have a field day with these two. There weren't any other lesbians in this town, at least none that would admit it, but these two were making up for the dearth all by themselves. He checked the curved mirror for Maura's reflection to see if they were just messing with him, but there she was, loading up a little basket with those bottles. He could charge more because his clientele were such a long drive from anywhere with a wider selection, higher quality, or better prices. Therefore, if someone actually bought something, he knew darned well it was something they intended to use. His rheumy eyes widened as he gestured up at the mirror for Jane. "You two aren't just yanking my chain, are you, Miss Jane? I thought you were just doing a kindness to an old man that can't see well enough to enjoy the dirty magazines anymore, but you really are kinkier than a pig's tail, aren't you? Well, Christmas _did_come early."

"That's not possible," Maura called back with a smile from the condiment aisle as she moved further up the aisle, rounded it, and made for the bakery section for a loaf of bread, then the meat bin for the bacon. True to her word, she walked with that same relaxed stride with a bit of a wiggle, in case Bobby could see that far. He was right; an old man needed some good thoughts to keep him going, and Maura was a generous woman.

"I can't believe this is happening," Jane muttered to herself as she went after Maura, completely ignoring Bobby for the moment. "Maura, what are you doing? Stop giving him fodder to use against me later, and you _know_ I'm allergic to honey. You just said so two seconds ago." She pulled the bottle out of the basket and held it up. "Also, I prefer ranch dressing." She raised an eyebrow, daring Maura to give a comeback loud enough for Bobby to hear.

Maura turned the 'honey' bottle around to show the label more clearly. "It's agave nectar. You're going to love this. It's sweeter than honey, thinner so that it spreads or drips more easily, and comes from the same plant that is used to make tequila, the Weber blue agave, _Agave tequilana_, also known as _Agave azul_. Here, hold the basket." She didn't bother removing her own chosen salad dressing from the selections, an indication that that particular flavor was all for her. "I'm going to get your ranch. Bobby," she said as she started trotting backwards towards the condiment aisle once more, "I hope you're not saying anything to my girlfriend that she doesn't want to hear. Remember, Bobby, Jane is a lady."

"Miss Jane? You must have brought in the wrong woman, Miss M." Bobby's laughter echoed around the story. "You two want some of the good stuff, too?'

"No, we didn't drink what we bought last time." Jane swaggered up to the counter. "Got distracted." She set the basket down with a thud. "I'm sure you understand."

"I got me an idea, yeah." He shook his head as he started ringing up the items and bagging them. "What else you two plan to get into while you're here?"

"Thought we'd go visit Harold at First Baptist, swing through town to see if there's anything else we need, and then go out to the Johnson place for the rest of the week." The detective pulled her wallet out in preparation for payment.

"That's a lot to do before you get this stuff back to the cabin. You want me to keep it in the fridge in the back till you're done messing around town?" He nodded toward the back of the store.

"Do you mind?" The detective gave the old man a genuine smile.

"Nope. You still have the key for the back door?" He finished bagging what was in the basket and was waiting for Maura to come back so he could finish.

"Yeah, if you haven't changed it." Jane answered as she pulled her key ring out to show him.

As she returned from the condiment aisle for a second time, Maura slowed her trot, smiling at Jane as the taller woman smiled at Bobby. _She is so beautiful when she smiles_. "Got your ranch," she said unnecessarily to Jane as she handed the dirty old man the bottle. "Did I hear you say we were going to church? Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Good, yes, and no, but there's someone I want you to meet." Locating the key she was looking for, she held it up. "This is the one I've got. Does it match the one you have?"

Bobby pulled out his keychain from where it was hidden in his coveralls. "Let me check," taking Jane's keys, he held the key up against one on his ring. "Yeah, that's the right one." He handed her keys back. "Good to know I still have pretty girls sneaking in my back room at night." His grin widened. "That'll be $50 flat."

Already, Maura was reaching into her chocolate brown leather purse for her wallet. "My turn," she mentioned, laying out three twenties and accepting two fives in change. "Thank you, Bobby. I'm sure we'll be back for more before the week is out. We'll look forward to seeing you again."

With a nod, the two women headed out. On their way out, just to be nice, Maura blew Bobby a kiss with her free hand before taking Jane's.


	3. Chapter 3

The local First Baptist church was a small, wooden framed building with peeling white paint. The lawn and playground nearby were neatly kept, but it was clear there was age to the property. One loan motorcycle leaned underneath the awning that would have protected a car or hearse, should the need be there for its use.

Jane pulled the truck underneath the awning, careful not to get too close to the motorcycle.

"Okay, I'm going to introduce you to someone, and it might get a little weird. I know it looks like there's only one person here, but a lot of the locals walk here from their places, so it could be packed." Jane switched the motor off. _I hope this doesn't freak her out. _"I don't really know many people here personally. They know me because of what went down with JJ and his dad, but I couldn't tell you most of their names." She turned in her seat to face the honey blonde. "I want you to know something, and I want you to trust me and believe me when I say it, okay?" She held Maura's eyes with her own. "You say or do whatever you think is right while we're in there. If you feel like you need to claim me, correct someone, or whatever, you do it. I'm not ashamed of you or of us. Okay?"

"Okay," Maura nodded, though not without some trepidation. "But if anyone here insults you, promise me that we'll leave rather than become involved in a confrontation."

"This _one_ time, I can't promise you that. These people are the reason why things turned out the way they did, and I refuse to apologize or back down to them. I did that once, and," Jane shook her head, her lips forming a thin line as she remembered the past. _That's how I lost him. Their idiotic notions and just… crap. No. I won't promise her this. I __**can't**__. _"I refuse to let it happen again. Never again, Maura. Do you understand me? We stand our ground."

Maura's lips pursed. Something was going on in her lover, and she needed to understand it before she could know whether to explain her point, accept Jane's decision, or... was there another alternative? Possibly, but she did not see one. "Was JJ murdered because he was gay?"

"He was murdered because people are stupid, spiteful, and don't give a damn about other human beings." Jane spat the answer out before she could stop herself. It was harsher than she would normally be with anyone, especially Maura. _I should tell her the whole story._ Sitting back in the truck's seat, the detective took in a deep breath. "JJ and I were up here riding horses just after we graduated from high school. His father decided it would be okay for us to come up here alone together. He figured, given which team he knew his son batted for and what team he _thought_ I batted for, it was probably safe. We kept pretty much to ourselves. We always did when we came up here unless we had to go to Bobby's store. Over the time we'd been coming to the cabin with JJ's dad, we'd had a few run-ins with people. You know the type, roughnecks with a homophobic streak a mile wide and something to prove."

She sighed heavily, lowering her eyes to stare at the steering wheel in front of her. "Whenever someone like that would start trying to rough JJ up, I'd try to get them to stop. I'd try to convince JJ to walk away, and he never would. We fought about it a lot because I thought it'd just be easier if he'd walk away and not stir the locals up. He said I didn't get it, but I would eventually. I just thought he was being hardheaded when he didn't need to be." She gave a bitter laugh. "That's probably ironic coming from me." _'Janie,' he told me, 'one of these days you're going to understand why it's important to stand up for who and what you are. It's not about stirring up the locals. It's about being true to who you are.'_ She ran a hand over her face.

"One Sunday we came here to see Harold, a friend who has just moved into town from Boston. Some of the local roughnecks were here, and they started giving JJ a hard time out there in the parking lot by the playground. When JJ wouldn't walk away, and I couldn't get them to stop, _I_ walked away."

As little as she wanted to hear this, Maura knew, that was how much she _should_ hear it, and how much Jane needed to say it. She swallowed the words in her mind, _no, be quiet, I don't want to know, don't make me see this._ This was her world. This was her job. Most of all, this was Jane's history. JJ's death had to be laid out for her, sliced open, examined as closely as possible.

Jane swallowed a hard lump and pushed on. "I walked away because I didn't want to fight that fight. I thought that, if it got bad enough or loud enough and with all the locals inside that church, someone would come out and check. I walked to Bobby's store. That's normally what I did when I walked away from JJ. He'd come back an hour or two later with a bloody nose or something. We'd patch him up and go on."

A tear fell. She wiped it away. "That day, he didn't come back. After four hours passed by, Bobby and I went looking for him, and we found him. He was under the slide out there," she nodded toward the innocent looking playground. "He was dead, murdered. I'll spare you the details, or, maybe I'm just sparing myself again." She shrugged. "It doesn't matter. What _does_ matter is that building was _full_ of people when the murder took place, and no one did a thing about it." _Bastards._

Her face hardened as her eyes turned to the church doors. "There's _no way_ they didn't hear anything. He fought. I know he did. When the sheriff's department came to take on the case, I insisted on being there and knowing what was going on. The sheriff at the time, Kent Lawler, let me ride along. He really shouldn't have. It was totally against protocol, but he did it anyway. I heard all the interviews. You know what most of the people who are probably in there right now said about it?" Her jaw muscles twitched as she took a moment. _All this time, and I still hate all of them._ "They said it was a shame someone died, but it wasn't a loss if another queer was off the face of the earth."

She shook her head. "A church full of people, and only a handful seemed upset at all that JJ was killed on their backdoor step."

"First they came for the queers," Maura murmured, paraphrasing the famous poem by Protestant pastor Martin Niemoller about the inactivity of German intellectuals following the Nazi rise to power and the purging of their chosen targets, group after group**. She reached for Jane's hand, running her fingers over the scars so reminiscent of crucifixion, on her mind now that they were parked literally in the shadow of that church. But she was no longer looking at the church; it had become unimportant. She could only gaze at the sad, grim, determined face of her love.

The detective pulled her hand free, shaking her head as she gave another heavy sigh. "I'm not backing down from these people, Maura. I won't apologize for who or what I am. If they want to pick a fight, I'll take the challenge on, but I'm not looking for a fight. I'm done looking for fights. I have a reason to come home now," she looked over to the woman next to her, taking Maura's hand in her own, "and I intend to come home every night."

"Now that I understand why you want to do this," Maura finally said as she let herself clasp Jane's hands strongly together with hers, "I agree with everything you're feeling. But I don't want _you_ to become a victim here, too. I'm not above blackmailing you to keep you from putting yourself in harm's way. I'd rather not, but I will, make my own safety contingent upon yours. I'm going to be standing right beside you, Jane. Think about that, as you're making whatever decisions you'll be making in there."

"What did I just say?" Jane's face hardened more. "I just said I'm not going in there looking for a fight. I'm going in there looking for my friend, Harold. I have absolutely no intention to start anything, Maura. I'm just warning you that someone in there might try, and I want you to know not to take their crap. Do. Not. Take. Their. Crap. Do you understand me? No one's going to physically hurt you or me. I won't let them. Don't you dare threatened me with your life. That's beyond not okay." Dark brown eyes flashed with anger.

Jane was a volatile personality. Sometimes, in rare moments of poeticism, Maura wondered if she was so thin as a result of keeping herself clenched and tightened almost all the time, holding in all that energy so that it didn't come arcing out and hurt someone. But she herself couldn't be afraid of Jane, even when she sensed that that might be the expected reaction. "I know it isn't," she said with a tone of apology, "but I wanted to be sure that you know _I_ feel that way about _you_, too. I promise not to take anyone's... abuse. Let's go inside."

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><p>**[Quote source for what Maura paraphrases, above.]<p>

First they came for the communists,  
>and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a communist.<p>

Then they came for the trade unionists,  
>and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a trade unionist.<p>

Then they came for the Jews,  
>and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a Jew.<p>

Then they came for me  
>and there was no one left to speak out for me. <p>


	4. Chapter 4

The church door squeaked as Jane opened it to allow Maura to walk in first. Once inside, they both stood for a moment to allow their eyes to adjust to florescent lights inside the small room. Glancing around, there were a handful of people seated at tables and standing about in what looked to be the kitchen/dining area of the little church. Two elderly women were cooking in the back where the kitchen was located. A man and what appeared to be his son were drinking tea and playing checkers at one of the tables. A couple of teenage boys were playing darts. Two teenage girls were at another table chatting and flipping through a few magazines.

Jane's eyes scanned the room, and her left hand moved to her belt, looking for something that wasn't there. _The one time I wish I had my shield or piece on me._ She grunted and hooked her thumb into the top of her belt. "He's not in here. But, I bet I know where he is. Listen, you stay here and let me go get him. It's hard to get up there, and," she gave an apologetic look to honey blonde, "if he's where I think he is, I'd rather go get him alone. Are you okay with that?"

Maura nodded as she looked around the social hall. "It's just a building, and no one here knows me well enough to be offended by me. I'd rather not let you go alone, knowing that you have a history here," she added quietly as she returned her piercing hazel gaze to Jane, "but you know these people better than I do. If you feel safe alone, then I trust your judgment. Do you think they'd mind if I went... somewhere quiet? Is there a seldom-used chapel, in addition to the main sanctuary?"

"No, the place is smaller than it looks. Go grab some coffee and sit in a corner or not. Someone will probably come over and say hello. They're friendly at first. I'll be back in a few." Jane frowned as she glanced around the room again. "Remember what I said in the truck," she said by way of warning before slipping through a side door and out of site.

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><p>She intended to obey Jane's instructions, to get a coffee and sit somewhere out of the way, but all Maura could do was stare at the door that closed with a soft thud behind her girlfriend. She simply stared, just where Jane had left her, until eventually her awareness broadened again just enough to register the soft hand on her forearm, to hear, "Miss? Ma'am? Young lady?" She turned towards the voice, looking down from her lofty five-foot-seven (actually, six-foot-one, given her choice in footwear today). "Yes, I'm sorry, am I in the way?"<p>

"No, sweetie, you just look a little lost, so I thought I'd come over and say hello since your friend seemed to have left you here alone," the elder woman smiled brightly. "I've never seen you before. Can I help you?" She offered her hand, "My name is Edna Rogers."

Maura took the delicate, papery hand in hers for a brief moment, noting its fragility, the number and type of liver spots, the visibility of veins; the slight curvature of the spine, indicating the onset of osteoporosis; color and texture of hair; bone structure. _Seventy-eight to eighty-four, predominantly Caucasian, likely German, Dutch, and Scots, with perhaps one great-great-grandparent a member of an upper east coast Native American nation._ "Mine is Maura Isles. Maura. Thank you, but as you noticed, I came in with my friend. I'm not here for myself." Her head tipped to one side as she realized that the woman had not yet let go her hand and forearm. Perhaps friendliness was less a motivating factor than stability. "But if you wouldn't mind some company while I wait for her, I was thinking I'd like to sit down. Will you join me?"

"Of course," Edna's smile did not falter as she led them both to a sofa near where the boys were playing darts, "while we wait for your friend to come back, why don't you tell me about yourself? Are you new to town? Are you and your friend thinking of joining our congregation?" She patted the sofa cushion next to her to indicate Maura should sit down. "Are you bringing in your families? Mine has been here for generations. This town has always been so quiet and peaceful. It's a good place to raise children, you know." She patted Maura's knee with some affection. "Isn't that right, Rosemary?" Her voice rose to call to the other elderly woman still in the kitchen area.

"Sure, raised both my boys here and never had a lot of problems," came the response, though Rosemary didn't bother to turn around from the dish she was tending on the stove.

After she'd gotten Edna settled, Maura sat herself, in the way of someone trained in the art of precision sitting. Had anyone from the social set within which she was reared come into the room, even without recognizing her by sight, they would have known she was One Of Them, with her ramrod straight posture, delicately crossed ankles, and hands gracefully lying alongside one another in the crease of her thighs, just the way she and Jane sometimes slept. "It's a beautiful town," she replied with easy grace, knowing the rules for meeting and getting acquainted. Today those rules were for the upper crust, but in Edna and Rosemary's heyday, such things were for nearly everyone. "However, we're not planning to move here. Jane and I are only visiting for a few days."

"Oh, that's too bad. I bet both of you have lovely families." The older woman's smile faltered just a bit. "Jane?" Edna seemed to be trying to get the wheels turning to remember something. "Jane… Rizzoli? Is she the one that sometimes stays at the old Johnson place?"

Maura smiled, again with outward ease. Her own lack of inhibition regarding her life was one thing, but a little old lady's ability to call in reinforcements and create a mob scene should not be underestimated. "Yes, that's my friend. The Johnsons left her the property." If the woman chose to become an informant, well, she already seemed privy to the information that Jane stayed there, so the whole town must already know where to look if they wanted to find her. Them. _Enough false creations proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain. She's just a nice, elderly lady making small talk._ "I'm staying with her."

"Are you?" Edna shifted on her cushion, moving slightly away from Maura. "She says she's staying with Jane Rizzoli at the old Johnson place, Rosemary," she called out to the woman still in the kitchen area.

"That so?" Rosemary turned around to regard the young woman seated next to her friend. "You the same one that came with her last time?" She wiped her hands on her apron and walked over to stand in front of the two seated women as the teen boys stopped playing darts to turn and watch the conversation unfold.

Maura shifted as well, not from discomfort, but simply to be able to include Rosemary in the conversation. "That's right, this is my second visit here. It's a beautiful place. Last time I didn't get to meet anyone, though, except for Bobby at the general store." However, she knew that she and Jane were not invisible. They had been spotted, even if they had never interacted with anyone but Bobby. Spotted, discussed as the nine days' wonder that they were, and identified easily by their out-of-town clothes (especially Maura's) and their black truck – everyone else in town drove red or green ones. "I take it not many outsiders come here."

"Jane's always caught our eye," Rosemary answered, her own eyes narrowing as she sized up the young woman. "She's always been a little… different. Wouldn't you say, Edna?"

"Yes, that's one way to put it." The elder seated woman's expression changed from welcoming to closed. "She and her friend, the one that got himself killed. They were always a little different from the rest of the teenagers around here." She folded her hands in her lap.

By contrast, Maura's expression did not close in the least. In fact, it warmed. "That's what Jane was telling me in the car earlier. She had a gentle friend who liked to talk about important things, sit out and enjoy nature, do things for others. Listen. Take care of animals. Do his father's work. I think he must have been very much like Jesus."

Edna's jaw clenched. Rosemary's posture straightened. The teenage boys leaned against the wall, clearly expecting something interesting to happen.

"I wouldn't think so, no," came Edna's clipped response. "It's people like _that_ boy that are the very cause of so much of our moral corruption these days. Jesus was pure. _That_ boy was not."

"That's _exactly_ why he wound up getting himself killed. If he'd lived right instead of flaunting that lifestyle of his, he'd never have come up dead. That's God's will at work, if you ask me, and Jane Rizzoli isn't telling you the whole truth if that's the line she's been feeding you about _that _boy." Rosemary was practically yelling by the time she was done with her little speech. Breath coming faster, cheeks slightly red with her anger, she was the picture of someone who was wholly offended by the very notion that someone like Jason Johnson could be _anything_ like Jesus Christ.

"Getting oneself killed is what happens when one's tires skid on an icy road, or when one can't get out of a burning building. Getting oneself killed is an accident. Jane told me," Maura replied, still smiling warmly, though with the tiniest little sliver of edge in the steadiness of her eyes, "that Jason was brutally murdered by a mob of people who didn't like the fact that Jason preferred to spend his time among men. Right outside this church, in fact, while the building was full of worshippers praying about peace, love, universal compassion, and the brotherhood of humanity, all because of a man who lived with his mother until the age of thirty, then spent all his time with a dozen men and one female prostitute, then was killed by a mob of Romans. It sounds to me like Jason may have been the only person in town that day who bore the slightest resemblance to your god."

Again, she smiled, not moving in the slightest, as she drove home the point. "In the Book of Leviticus, chapter nineteen, verse sixteen, the text indicates that the faithful are not permitted to stand idly by while their neighbor bleeds. Were you here at the church that day, Edna? Rosemary? Did his screams of pain and fear sound like he was making a joyful noise to the Lord?"

The two women simply stared at the honey blonde seated for a long, tense, quiet moment before Edna stood up and leaned towards Maura, pointing at her accusingly, her face red with suppressed rage. "You're one of _them_, aren't you? You're _that way_," she made a disgusted face and stood back to stand by Rosemary, "a homosexual." Her old eyes gleamed with distaste. "I bet you're sleeping with that Rizzoli girl. It's a good thing you're both here."

"Someone needs to save your soul. If you're here for that, you're in the right place," Rosemary added, her face stone. "If you're here to defile our church, you can try, but God won't let your kind destroy us. He didn't before, and he won't now."

The teenage boys stepped up, joining the women. One boy remained standing while the other took Edna's place on the sofa, his eyes silently pleading with the woman beside him for something. The other young man mirrored the two women in stance and expression.

Maura did not stand. She did not feel threatened, and therefore had no need to look down or even across at anyone from a position of physical power. She simply sat, exuding refinement out every pore. "There is a plank in your eye. You might want to do something about that, before you try to help me with my speck of dust."

The young man beside her gasped, shaking his head as if trying to convey some unspoken message to this woman about what she _should not _be saying. The worry on his face was clearly evident, and, though he didn't say a word, his pleading for her to tread lightly lest something bad happen radiated off of him.

Through the scene playing out, no one heard the doors open, or did they hear the footsteps approaching. What they did hear was cursing in their church.

"What the hell is going on here? Babe, are Rosemary and Edna giving you a hard time?" Jane's hardened voice came crashing into the party as she came up behind the sofa where her girlfriend and the young man sat. "What you two telling her?"

Maura shook her head, putting out a hand to Jane to still her worries. "I'm fine, Janie. We're just discussing theology." She looked as if she hadn't even noticed the teenaged boy sitting down next to her, but her eyes flicked swiftly towards his direction, then back at Jane, and widened to indicate some significant moment. _He needs us_, the message clearly ran. "Gentlemen," she then said to the teenaged boys, including the one who had taken what tiny refuge was to be found by her side, "I must apologize. I introduced myself to these charming ladies, but not to you. That was rude of me. My name is Dr. Maura Isles, chief medical examiner for the Boston Police Department... but you can call me Maura if you like. I take it," she added for the benefit of Rosemary and Edna, "that my girlfriend, Jane Rizzoli, needs no introduction."

Jane tilted her head slightly as she tried to take in what was going on. "Rosemary, Edna, and I go way back. Don't we, ladies?" _What the hell? Maura is filling me on the drive back to the cabin._

"I always knew you were off," Rosemary replied, not bothering to hide her revulsion.

"We always knew you weren't quite right. No wonder you were always with that Johnson boy. Birds of a feather, I guess," Edna added, her voice cold.

"It's great to see you, too," Jane deadpanned. "Babe, Harold was climbing around in the organ, like I thought he would be. I had to climb up there to get him down. He's waiting for us." _Whatever she said to them has them super pissed. _The detective smiled broadly. _Good girl. _"Are you ready to go meet him?" She walked around the sofa to help Maura up. Her eyes flickered to the teenage boy still seated. _Something… hmm… okay, brain, come up with something so I can find out why Maura was looking at that kid like that._ "Hey," she addressed the boy. "What's your name, kid?"

"P-Paul," he stuttered, "P-p-paul F-finley." He was getting paler by the moment, clearly scared.

_Okay, something's not right here._ "Paul? Right. Harold said to tell you to come with us. He wanted you to do something for him while he was talking to us. Come on, you know how he gets when you keep him waiting." Jane's sharp eyes darted to the older women and the other teenage boy. "Always a pleasure, ladies." She waited for Maura to take her hand.

Not knowing Maura, the church ladies and their teenaged followers would not see the very understated, mostly well-hidden relief in Maura's expression as Jane spoke to the boy seated beside her. Mostly, they were focused on the two women's hands as Maura's slipped into Jane's. "Thank you for an enlightening chat, Edna, Rosemary. I sincerely hope that you both find peace, if at all possible. By the way," and she leaned down to whisper in Edna's ear so that only Edna would hear what she had to say. Then she stood upright and smiled sweetly. "Go in peace."

As the three of them walked away, Edna's skin turned red, then white.


	5. Chapter 5

Once the three were safely in the hallway leading to the main sanctuary, Jane turned to the teen boy and the doctor. "Okay, what just happened back there? Why do you look like a scared puppy," she looked down at the short, skinny, sandy haired boy who was still shaking sightly, "and what did you say to Edna? When we walked out of there, she looked like she'd seen a ghost." The tall detective crossed her arms and waited for an answer.

Maura glanced back behind the three of them and murmured, "Tell you later," as she slipped her arm around Paul's shivering shoulders. As did so many when faced with Maura's entirely unexpected warmth, the boy froze, then molded himself to her as the two of them followed Jane to the sanctuary. "We should focus first on what you came for, and then on Paul's situation."

"Fine, but I'm holding you to that because whatever you did," Jane stopped just before the doors entering into the sanctuary to face Maura and the boy she had her arm wrapped around, "it was probably freaking awesome, and I'm pissed that I missed it." She smiled, eyes sparkling as she bent over to give the honey blonde a quick kiss before glancing over to the teen. "Harold didn't really want you, kid. You just looked like you needed a save."

"Th-th-thank you," he murmured, eyes downcast.

"Okay, here we go," Jane turned back around, opened the double doors to the sanctuary, and walked in expecting the other two to follow.

Inside the quiet of the sanctuary, the organ was playing, or, rather, a tall, silver haired man with impressive shoulders and equally impressive posture was playing the organ. The fugue resonated through the small room, and Jane smiled as she listened and walked. Stopping just to the side of the seat, she waited for him to finish.

"Harold, I want you to meet somebody," she motioned for him to come out of the nest of peddles, keyboards, and pulls. He did so, stepping out to stand a head and shoulders taller than the detective. His grey-blue eyes took in the honey blonde whose arm was still protectively wrapped around Paul, and he simply waited for Jane to introduce them. "This," Jane said with no little bit of reverence, "is Dr. Maura Isles, my girlfriend. Maura, this is Dr. Harold Marshall. Harold taught me to play the piano."

There it was again. These women were saying the word _girlfriend_ as if it was normal, something that could actually be talked about. Paul looked shellshocked.

"And few other things besides," his deep baritone voice was full of warmth and fatherly affection as he offered Maura his hand. "Dr. Isles, I am honored to meet you in this way."

Voices had always been important to Maura, and this one was rich of timbre and warm with habitual sincerity. She was instantly charmed. "The honor is mine, Dr. Marshall. Is that how Jane came to be so well acquainted with this town?" It was surprising to realize that not once had that ever come up in their discussions in or regarding this place. _It shouldn't be that surprising, I suppose. We get distracted._

"No," he chuckled, "Jane learned about the town when she and JJ were teenagers. As I understand the stories, they would escape Mr. Johnson's watchful eye and slip into town to cause trouble." He motioned for them to move down into the sanctuary so they could sit on a pew. "I was teaching at BCU when I met Jane. She was a young girl who disliked anything that didn't involve getting dirty, scraped up, or hitting something. Her mother, naturally, insisted she counterbalance her tomboy tendencies with something more feminine. So, she hired me to teach Jane to play the piano." Another chuckle escaped as he motioned for the women to have a seat on the front pew and he pulled two chairs up from the pulpit for himself and Paul.

Jane sat at the end of the pew, arm stretched across the back, ready to drape it across Maura's shoulders once she sat down. "I hated piano lessons."

"It's true." He smiled warmly at Paul. "You're safe here, Paul. Why don't you sit down and listen to us old folks chat? You might learn a thing or two." Harold nodded his approval as the teen gingerly sat down. "Unfortunately for young Jane, she was a natural born prodigy when it came to anything involving a keyboard."

Only when Paul was seated did Maura take her spot right next to Jane. "Some things don't change, do they?" she asked Harold rhetorically, though her face was upturned towards the taller woman. "Jane still likes roughhousing, taking risks, and getting dirty." _But not playing piano_, Maura thought with a touch of regret. _I wonder if she can't anymore, or if she just won't try because she doesn't want to be sure that she can't. Oh, my sweet Janie._ Her hand stole protectively across the detective's lap to lay atop the outer thigh. Paul simply stared at this closeness, hungry for evidence that somewhere, this was okay.

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me," Harold smiled, eyes twinkling. "Jane, do you still play?"

_Crap._ "Well, I... sometimes... when I'm at home." She winced. _I should have known he'd ask me that. Man._

"I suppose that answer is no. That's a shame. You're remarkable with your hands." Harold paused for a moment and then broke into unrestrained laughter, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Oh, I'll have to tell George about this. He'll die." He took a few moments to let the laughter inside him die down. "Jane," He said, going serious again. "What you're doing isn't easy. You know, if you ever need any help or guidance, George and I are here for you." He reached out to give a pat the Jane's knees. "I'm glad you've finally come to terms with who you are. I am very proud of you. George will be, too, as would JJ." He smiled gently as he returned his eyes to the honey blonde. "You must be an extraordinary woman, Dr. Isles. I'm honored to meet you."

"Maura. Please." Her eyes followed Harold's to Jane's knee, but they did not go narrow; Jane had not tensed in even the slightest degree. This man was safe, according to the body language of the one person Maura viewed as a completely dependable gauge for safety. "I do feel extraordinary, actually. Extraordinarily fortunate. But Jane is the brave one." She hesitated, especially in light of Paul's presence, but then had to ask, "And George is...?"

"You must call me Harold, please, and George is my husband of 23 years. It will be 24 next month," he answered with ease as he sat back in his chair. "We took an early retirement. George was always so good with finances." He smiled affectionately at the thought of his husband.

"George is cool, Babe," Jane added. _He gave me my first beer._ "He taught me a whole bunch of awesome stuff whenever I went over to their place for lessons." _Like how to get out of the lessons,_ She smirked, her hand absentmindedly running patterns over the top of Maura's shoulder. "He was the first one to figure out that I had the hots for," she stopped abruptly, then looked at Paul. Clearing her throat, she continued on despite the tension that suddenly ran through her body. "That, uh, I had the hots for Heather Locklear." She blushed, despite herself. "I, uh, always had a thing for blondes and light haired brunettes." She looked at Paul, giving him shrug.

As Paul gawped, not knowing which person had surprised him more, Maura chuckled. "Really? Well, then, lucky for me. And Harold, I think it's very lucky for Jane that she had you and George to teach her. It is wonderful to have a mentor who cares. Someone who makes you feel safe." She took a would-be-nonchalant gaze over at Paul, who was now leaning limply against the back of his chair, wrapping his mind around the idea that three entire adults could have a conversation about the thing he scarcely dared contemplate alone in the dead of night, that they would let him hear them, that there would be no whispering. "Especially here. How... I don't know how to ask this in a better way. How can you be _here_, knowing what happened to Jason Johnson?"

"That, Maura, is _exactly_ why we're here. George and I believe it's important to be available to those who need us, to be," he glanced around at their surroundings, "our own type of sanctuary. We open our home as a halfway house to the younger generation in this area who may not be safe at home to deal with what's going on internally." He sighed. "It's hard enough to be a teenager. It's tenfold more difficult to be a teenager and know you're even more different because of who you love. Add on top of that living in a rural community where such hatred still exists, and it is a recipe for disaster." He frowned, he features sharpening "George and I felt we were needed here. We've helped several young adults find their way since we've made our home here. We hope to help several more." He looked at Paul. "The first step is to admit that you know who you are. The rest may not always get easier, but it can get better." He looked to the dark haired brunette. "Right, Jane?"

"Yeah," she nodded. _Harold must have been one hell of a professor back in the day. That was an awesome speech. He's got to win every argument he and G have. Well, probably not. I mean, G has Harold wrapped around his little finger like Maura __has... Crap__. _Jane looked to the woman nestled against her. "It gets better, but you still have to work at it. It's a fight every day. Sometimes," she wrinkled her nose up in distaste, "you fight with yourself, which sucks." She shrugged. "The fight is always worth it, though." The smile she gave the doctor was practically radiant. _I want to try. For her, I want to try. "_Hey, Harold," she quickly stood up, "nah, I know you'll say yes. Hold on... no... wait... you three follow me." She took off up the steps to the organ, followed quickly by Harold, hesitantly by Paul, and not at all by Maura. Instead, Maura walked in the other direction, to the exact center seat of the exact center pew and sat down, prepared to receive the sound as it bounced off of every wall in the sanctuary, which was designed to act as a resonating chamber.

Once at the seat where they first met Harold, Jane slipped her shoes off and sat down, her hands flexing over the keys as her eyes lit up, and her tongue stuck out slightly in concentration. _I got this. I can totally do this. I'm awesome. I'm also a freaking prodigy, and I still do this at home when no one's around to see me wince in pain. Well, I did until that assclown smashed up my piano. I hate him. Whatever. Now's not the time, Janie. Focus. You're playing for Maura._ With an easy poise and a confident air, she lifted her hands above the keys, straightened her back, placed her feet, and began to play, adjusting pulls as needed. _Not bad, Rizzoli. Not bad at all._ She periodically winced as her hands stretched wide across the keys. _Damned scars._

With the first notes of Bach's "Toccata and Fugue in D Minor," Maura's hands flew to her lips like birds, covering her dropped jaw in an almost prayerful pose of amazement. She had heard various people claim that Jane played, but no one had prepared her for this. Jane was pulling forth beauty as she poured in care, commanding and tickling until the instrument vibrated with the fulfillment of all that it was made to do. The pipe organ seemed to take delight at being so honored through this use. _This is how she touches me. No wonder I feel so loved. Jane, my Jane, if I believed in a deity, you would be the reason I would give it my prayers._

The fugue was almost perfectly played. Moreover, the few mistakes were inevitably the result of hands that no longer stretched to their former width, rather than through poor technique, and despite the fact that her playing had become an underground experience for Jane, it lacked nothing in the way of expressiveness. How long had it been since Charles Hoyt's first apprentice had broken into Jane's home and destroyed her piano? _If she permits me, I'm going to replace it._

As the piece drew to a close, Maura suddenly stood and walked with hushed footsteps up the aisle to the front of the church again, so that the moment the music stopped, she was sitting down on the bench beside Jane, clasping one hand in hers, and massaging away the pain of unaccustomed activity from the cicatrices and surrounding tissues. She did not notice the wet streaks down her cheeks, which was fine, because she could not have stopped them if she had tried. She also could not stop smiling as she whispered, "Thank you, Janie. Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"I'd forgotten how much I like doing that," the brunette whispered as she allowed Maura's hands to touch her own. "You know I'll play for you any time you want, Babe," she whispered as her free hand came up to wipe away the tears, "I should do it more often." _Why did I ever stop playing? Oh, right. _She looked down at her free hand, assessing the scars again. _I think this might be something I need to start doing again._

"Feel better?" Harold's voice was quiet, reserved, but his eyes sparkled at the show of affection between the couple as Maura simply lay her head on Jane's shoulder, too overwhelmed with emotion to speak.

"Yeah," Jane's brow furrowed in contemplation as she clasped her hands around Maura's, "yeah, I do feel better. Less… something."

"Empty." The tall man offered.

_Exactly! That's it. How…? _"Yeah, less empty. I don't get that." She shook her head. "I think… less incomplete?" With a small chuckle she looked over Maura's head to meet Harold's eyes. "You always said I'd feel better about myself if I played more. I never wanted to. It felt too… um… risky? I don't know. It's weird. I can't explain it. But, now, it feels right." She sighed.

"Music can be a powerful tool, Jane. It bares the soul and forces you to know yourself." He smiled. "I'm so very glad that you came today, and I'm even happier to meet your lover. I have to finish working on the organ. I've promised George that I would cook dinner tonight, but I hope you two stop by before you leave town." He turned to Paul. "Why don't you come join us for dinner, Paul? We're having lasagna, and I could use the help putting it together."

Paul's head snapped up. He had watched, had heard, had surreptitiously been looking at Jane's hands. "I can't," he immediately replied, then blushed scarlet. "I mean, you guys are great, but this is going to be like suicide. I know what happened to JJ. That's why my dad left town."

"Yes, you can," Jane countered, "you just have to remember to call in your backup when you need it instead of trying to take on the world alone." _In other words, don't be me. _She held her free hand up so the young man could easily see the perfect scars on both sides. "I learned that the hard way. That's how I got these." She frowned, face tightening. "That's how I lost JJ." She glanced at the floor for a moment before looking back at the teen. _I didn't help JJ because I was too worried what would happen if people found out about me. I failed him. I'm not failing this kid. He needs our help, and I'm going to give it to him. I can't make up for JJ, but I can start being a better person for my… my what? My community? Yeah, __**my**__ community. I need to do what's right here. _"You're not alone, Paul. You can call me and Maura whenever you need someone to talk to, and Harold and George are really amazing people, and, if you let them, they'll help you." She turned back to the other two adults. "Right?"

"Of course. I know about your parents, Paul. We can make arrangements. You're welcome in our home. George and I have already have a room for you, if you want to stay." He gave an approving look to Jane who sat nervously fidgeting with Maura's hands.

Maura's lips pursed as she hesitated, but felt strongly that she had to speak. "That's such a sweet thing to offer, Harold, but I think it might be the worst thing to do. Paul, you're thinking that if you live with two men, all three of you will become targets, am I right?"

Again, Paul's face darkened as he ducked his head. "Yeah. People will think they're... doing things to me, and they'll get killed. And, plus, I already get enough crap at school, and that's just regular stuff that all guys do to p-pick on each other." Apparently the boy's stutter was directly related to tension, not an innate speech impediment.

Maura reached out a hand towards Paul's, though her other remained firmly within Jane's. "Sweetie, where did your father go?"

"The city."

"Is there a reason you didn't go with him?"

Paul ducked his head. "He's... like this, and my mom got custody of me because of that. I was too little to go to court and say where I wanted to live. I visit him twice a year. It's pretty great there, but I only get a week, and then I have to come back _here_."

"Do you know his phone number by heart?" Paul nodded. Maura glanced away, towards Harold and Jane, and asked, "Will someone take my cellphone from my purse? I want you to call him, Paul. You're old enough that, unless your mother or an officer of the court can demonstrate criminal activity on your father's part, a judge would almost never go against your wishes in this matter. This is something you should discuss with your father and mother." Off Jane's look, she added, "What? Various members of my family were stops on the Underground Railroad. It's the same thing."

"We're going to start being the Underground Railroad for the LGBT community?" Jane couldn't quite hide the humor in her voice, until Maura lifted one brow in a classic and universal expression: _be reasonable; I'm waiting_. "Yeah, okay," she shrugged. _Why not? I hope you're getting a kick out of this, JJ, wherever you are. I know you're watching this._ "We'll be here for a week, Paul. If you can get it worked out with your dad before then and you need it, we can give you a ride back to Boston."

"If you or your father need help making arrangements," Harold added, clearly amused by Jane's quick acquiescence to Maura's wants, "George and I can help. We have plenty of experience with these matters."

"I'm not whipped." Jane grumbled.

"Pardon," the baritone voice rumbled with unhidden mirth as he handed Maura's phone to Paul.

"I said I'm not whipped. I know that's what you're thinking. I can see it in your eyes." She glared at her former mentor. _Man… gah… I just… I. Am. Not. Whipped… I don't think. Am I? No. No, I am not whipped._

"Would you like to be?" Maura asked as she let go of Paul's hand to let the boy dial. "I'm sure it's not that difficult. As you're aware, I have excellent wrist flexibility and strength. Although, to be honest, I might be uncomfortable with the possibility of marring your beautiful skin. But if it was important to you..."

"Oh my God! _**Really**_?" Jane groaned as she did a literal facepalm. "Maura, it's a figure of speech. I didn't mean that you should actually… okay, no. Just… no. I know you're messing with me." The blush quickly deepened as she covered her hand with her eyes.

Harold simply laughed. "You caught a good one, Jane. Don't mess it up. She's good for you. She clearly throws you off your game, as you say." He winked at the honey blonde.

"All the freaking time!" The brunette groaned as she tried to put her embarrassment in check.

It took a few minutes for an impatient and embarrassed Jane and a highly amused Harold to explain both their reactions to Maura.

But by the time she had, Paul was talking with his father. He would be okay.


	6. Chapter 6

After finishing business at the church and promising to see Harold and George before leaving town, grabbing their groceries from Bobby's store, and getting settled in the truck for the drive back to the cabin, Jane settled into a contemplative quiet. _I'm glad Paul's going to be okay. I want to keep tabs on that kid once he gets to Boston. Maybe Maura and I can take him out somewhere once a month just to see how he's doing? I'm glad I didn't walk away this time. I'm not doing that again. _She sighed, thinking on the events that had happened at the First Baptist that day. With a grunt, she remembered what had started the whole thing with Paul, "Maur, what _did _you say to Edna before we left to see Harold?"

Maura adjusted her seatbelt a little in order to lean more against the door, one foot on the floor, the other knee bent, and face Jane as if they were on a couch instead of in a moving vehicle. Modern trucks, she reflected, just didn't have that comfy, furniture-like feeling, and she was glad this one gave her a better viewing of the woman she loved. "Well, you were right. Edna started out very friendly. She took my hand and introduced herself, and we seemed to be getting along until I said that you and I were only visiting, not moving to town. I mentioned your name, and she recognized it immediately. She said you were _different_, and she didn't say it with the vocal intonation that would indicate interest and a desire to learn more about you as a person. I tried to keep the conversation light, but Edna called Rosemary over and told her that I was staying with you at the Johnson cabin, and they started being very... _focused_, somehow, in their comments. Pointed."

"I'm a little ashamed, actually, of the way I responded." She did look that way, head ducking down as Maura fidgeted with the white gold thumb ring she'd been wearing. "I knowingly baited them. The subtle signs of bigotry really angered me. I shouldn't have done that, Jane, but I did. I told them that from what you'd told me about JJ, he sounded a lot like what I'd heard of Jesus."

"Seriously?" Jane chuckled. _I was right. It was awesome, and I missed it._ "Telling those two old ladies JJ was like Jesus is like telling Ma her cooking is like Chef Boyardee. I can't believe you didn't get jumped right then and there, but," she stole a quick glance in the direction of the doctor, "I bet the looks on their faces were priceless." She smiled. "Good job, Babe. I'm not judging you for that one. What did they say to that? When I walked in, they looked like they wanted to burn you at the stake."

Maura sighed. She really _was_ contrite about having purposefully provoked two elderly, creaky women as she had done, but perhaps telling Jane about it would count as a kind of confession, since she didn't believe in just whispering to the empty sky about her wrongdoings. "I told them that you viewed JJ as a gentle friend who liked to talk and to listen, to tend the horses and enjoy the land, and do chores for his father. That's just like what I remember hearing about Jesus, at least when taught about from the perspective of a believer. As you know, I'm a skeptic and not religious in the least, but I thought they might benefit from seeing Jason the way you did. But they called him morally corrupt and impure, and blamed him for his own death because it was God's will at work. _God's will!._"

Jane rolled her eyes in response to that statement. _Yup, that sounds like those two._

"If I believed in God," Maura continued on, "and that he would actually condone such a thing, I would think he was a seriously sick and twisted entity, certainly not worth the time of day, let alone my worship! Jane, I knew there were people who thought like that, but for some reason I always thought that they would try to deny it, or at least excuse themselves by saying what a tragedy it was, but they had no idea how it happened. I didn't realize anyone would actually take pride in it. I really had to restrain myself physically from... Well." she glanced out the front window, needing a short break from what she was reliving. She had borne no signs of impending violence whatsoever by the time Jane had arrived back in the church social hall, which meant that either her memory of emotion was much stronger than the experience, or that Maura Isles had a rather frightening level of control over her physical expression thereof.

She went on after a suitable breathing period. "Rosemary kept saying that he'd gotten himself killed by flaunting his lifestyle, and that he 'came up dead', as if it were all some sort of accident. Her voice is faint; I think she might have emphysema, but she was shouting, such as she could, as if _I_ had said something offensive. I told them both that while they were in church, praying about compassion and brotherhood, murder was being committed against a gentle man who, like their god, spent most of his time among men and maybe one woman whose life wasn't approved of by the majority."

"I said he was killed by a mob, and that JJ may have been the only person in town that day who bore the slightest resemblance to their deity. That they should be ashamed of disobeying their own Bible by standing idly by while their neighbor bled. I was furious, Jane. At two little old women. I really could have hurt them, and I'm so shamed to have to admit this, but I was actually picturing it. I can _not_ afford to think of myself as an instrument of comeuppance. It isn't right, and ultimately it wouldn't even be satisfying. But I felt so ill when I realized that they could probably hear him from inside. I could hear cars passing by, which meant that they probably heard the mob, knew what was happening." By now, she was crying, cleansing herself of bitterness that she had been holding tightly reined in that purported house of God.

Gently, Jane reached for her girlfriend's hand, not speaking but allowing Maura to finish. _I shouldn't have left her alone._

"The worst part, at least for me," she continued in a very subdued voice when she could, "was that they didn't even seem the slightest bit sorry. They were angry that I would dare to question their form of justice, because I was clearly one of _those people_, and therefore I must be there for the sole purpose of trying to defile and destroy their church. As if that hadn't already been done! And Paul was just ashen-faced, sitting and trying to look neutral while his friend just kept nodding at the women, supporting everything they were saying. Right away, I knew he was going to need some help, but I just couldn't think of how to get him alone and offer it. Thank you for that, by the way."

"It was pretty clear he needed out of there, and the look on your face said you needed him to get out of there." Jane frowned. "I'm sorry, Maura. I didn't realize they'd gang up on you like that. But," she gave the doctor's hand a squeeze, "I'm proud of you for standing your ground and more thankful than you'll know for standing up for JJ. But," again she stole a glance in the direction of the honey blonde, "what _did_ you tell Edna?"

Maura hesitated, but Jane's touch soothed her, at least enough to get out the rest of the retelling. "I did try to warn her. Warn them both, really. I paraphrased a Biblical verse for her, about removing the plank from one's own eye before looking at the dust in someone else's. I thought she would respond to the familiar language of the King James Version. But then you came, and they were still being vile, and Paul was just having to sit and listen to them saying those things about us, and therefore about him. I couldn't let that stand. So I... I... sort of gave her one in the teeth, I suppose." She blushed, not in the happy way that she did so often for Jane, but in the manner of one ashamed. "I just couldn't take the high road. I didn't have a dignified or gracious way of addressing it any longer. I told her..."

She took a deep breath. "I told Rosemary that I could smell her, when they were both standing so close and shouting me. It wasn't strong, but that scent is certainly identifiable for anyone who knows it well. I said either she or Edna needed to switch to a different body wash, and that they might want to use it _after_ they were together and not just before, because I could smell them on each other. And then I called her a f... a fuh... I called her a hypocrite."

Jane's eyes widened in surprise and she missed a beat in switching gears on the truck. There were a few escaped curses as the gears ground, and she said nothing about Maura's last comment as she worked out the gearshift issue.

After correcting her error, she pulled over to the side of the country road, put the truck in park, turned it off, unbuckled her seat belt, and turned to Maura. "You told Edna," she began as she slowly moved across the bench seat, "that she was a," she inched closer, pinning the small honey blonde against the passenger's side door, "_fucking _hypocrite, and I missed that?" A hair's breadth away from the other woman, Jane smiled, a devilish look in her eyes. "First of all, that is awesome, and I'm glad someone finally called out those two closet cases. Second of all," she inched closer, "you cussing is really, really," she captured the doctor's lips with her own, "sexy," she whispered as the kiss ended.

Meeting the still unsure and slightly ashamed hazel eyes, Jane shook her head. "Do not be ashamed of what you did, Babe. That was incredibly brave and it should have happened. You did the right thing, and I'm proud of you. I think I love you more, if that's even possible, and I know for a fact," she said with a hint of mischief in her voice, "that I'm definitely turned on right now."

Soft cheeks dulled a little from their abashed purple-red, tamed to a charming pink as Jane managed to shift Maura's mood. _How does she do this to me? I love the way she makes me feel._ She still felt contrite, but perhaps that line of thought could be shelved for the nonce. "Does that mean," she asked as she scooted and adjusted, getting her body more closely aligned with her lover's, "that you want to make love when we get back to the cabin? Or does it mean that you'd really rather _fuck_me right here?"

Roughly an hour later, the truck started again, and they drove the remaining distance to the cabin.


	7. Chapter 7

A groan rolled from Jane as she rolled over, grabbing for Maura in her half sleep. The wind was picking up outside, and, despite the early morning there were no happily chirping birds outside. It smelled like rain was going to roll in soon. As she realized she was alone in their bed, the smell of bacon hit her and she sat up, not bothering to keep the covers up to cover her.

"Maura?" Her voice was still deep and scratchy with sleep. Bones popping as she stretched in the bed, she gave a lazy glance around the open cabin. _Mmmmm… bacon._ "Babe?" She didn't see her anywhere. _Bathroom maybe?_

The table was set for one, complete with a dish of sliced fruit, glass of milk, and jam; and the enchanting smell of breakfast emanated from the still warm oven, which proved to hold a plate of bacon, egg, and toast. "I'm outside," came Maura's faint call from the front porch. "Smells like rain." Out the small front window, barely concealed by the half-drawn curtain, Maura was visible as she lay out on the side bench, a towel between her naked body and the rough boards, taking advantage of the privacy to perpetuate her flawless, though faint, tan.

_Go attack my lover… go take a shower… go eat… eat by attacking my lover in the shower… hard choices this morning. _A yawn escaped as she tried to figure out what to do first. _Bathroom first, food on the porch to enjoy the view after._

About 20 minutes later, Jane was sitting on the front porch, facing Maura, dressed in boxes and a tank top with the plate in her lap. She talked between bites. "You look amazing in that," she said with a smirk before popping a piece of bacon in her mouth.

Maura smiled even before her eyes opened, swimming into focus. One forearm shielded her eyes by resting, palm up, on her forehead. The other lazily drifted down from her bare abdomen to her thigh, there tracing ellipses as she said, "You look pretty good in this, too. I'd love to see that again, once you've finished your breakfast."

"You know how much I hate telling you no, Babe, but we have some place to go first. Then," she concentrated on spreading the jam on her toast as she spoke, "I'm all yours for the rest of week. But, you're going to have to get dressed." She frowned at Maura's pout. "It won't take long, I promise." She sighed heavily. "I wish I wasn't allergic to honey," she was staring at her toast, "I bet it'd taste awesome on this." With a shrug, she took a bite of toast. "Oh!" she exclaimed around the toast in her mouth. Swallowing quickly, she added, "I think you should know – not sure why I think you should know – but, anyway, I think I'm thinking of you differently but not in a bad way. Um… you know, that's not important. You want a bite of my toast?"

Maura's cute petulance at having to dress somewhat evaporated as she stood and the breeze hit her. Summer was drawing to a close. Perhaps at least a little clothing would be a wise choice. She started to head inside, but then was caught up short by Jane's tossed comment, slowly turning in the doorway and tilting her head. "Differently how? And how is that _not_ important?"

"Because it's not bad, and, okay," Jane finished the last of her bacon, "I can't concentrate with you like that. I promise to tell you _after_ you have something between you and my ability to see all of you." It was clear the detective was using all the restraint she had to not pounce on the honey blonde. "Please?"

Maura's lips pursed for a moment, then she nodded and went back inside to put on the outfit she had laid out the night before: black undergarments; tan cargo pants, not quite as baggy on her as they were on Jane, but still low-slung; an olive green tank top which she fancied brought out her eyes; a chunky belt, also borrowed from her girlfriend, as well as a wristwatch with a three-inch-wide leather band; surprisingly butch combat boots that had made her giggle when she saw and bought them. None of the outfit was anything like what she would wear in Boston, and she had never worn any of it there. Now that she had brought it to JJ's cabin, it would remain here, along with a very few other changes of clothing she would never wear in the city. She stood back from the door on the back of the bathroom mirror, practically standing in the shower to get the full view. "Try to resist me _now_," she dared the woman who, all the way out on the porch, couldn't hear her. She strutted back out, feeling just a little bit... sporty.

A gurgling noise escaped Jane as Maura reappeared from the bathroom. _She could wear tin foil, and she's still look hot. Hmm… Maura in a foil bikini with some whipped… okay, no. I have got to stop doing that._ She shook her head to clear it. "You do this to me on purpose." For her part, Jane was in a pair of well worn, tightly fitting jeans, black cowboy boots, and her typical form fitting t-shirt. This time, it was a deep green. "How do you expect me to think when you look like that? It's not fair!"

Maura smiled unrepentantly. "Yes, I do, and no, it isn't. But please tell me what's on your mind anyway, baby."

The protest in her voice was for show. She was already walking over to wrap her arms around the smaller woman and welcome her back with a kiss. "Right, I'm going to tell you because I promised but just don't… look at me funny, okay?" _How do I… I guess I should just tell her. She normally likes it when I do that._ "So, this morning, when I woke and I was trying to figure out what to do first when I got out of bed? I… man, this is going to sound weird. Don't look at me weird, okay? I thought of you as my," she blushed, deeply, "lover instead of my 'girlfriend'. It was just sort of there, you know? I didn't consciously change anything. I just," the detective rolled her eyes dismissively, "never mind, it's stupid. Not a big deal. Anyway, you ready to go?"

Maura let her hands slide up from Jane's, up her arms, and then locked at the back of the taller woman's neck, like at an eighth grade dance, except with no room for a chaperone's gaze to get between them. And no chaperones. She did not pay attention to the initial physical cue that Jane wanted to be released from her arms, at least not until she had risen to tiptoe to kiss that narrow nose. "I think that's wonderful. I love all the things that you call me." Now she let go, though not completely, keeping one hand on the back of Jane's neck. "I'm ready. Let's go keep your promise."

"Maura," the brunette's eyes narrowed, voice growing slightly annoyed, "I tell you that I've switched over from thinking about you as my just my girlfriend to thinking of you as lover, and all you have to say is, basically, 'isn't that cute?' _Really?_" Stepping back to break Maura's hold on her neck, Jane went to stand by the porch stairs. Arms crossed, jaw muscles twitching, she stared out at the horizon for a moment. "Give me a few. I don't want to go out there while I'm… upset."

"Sweetheart," Maura responded immediately, "that is _not_ what I said, and it's not what I think. I just know better than to make a big deal out of things with you, because you get embarrassed and irritated with me. In fact, you just called it unimportant, said not to make a big deal about it, and not to look at you weird. Do you want to know what I really feel?" She made a point of standing directly in Jane's line of sight. "I really do feel that that's wonderful. I really do love all the things that you call me, all the ways that you think of me. I've never _not_felt loved with you. From the first time you called me your friend, I felt special, as if I had been set apart from everyone around me. I have been your lover for so long, in the sense of someone who loves you, and hearing you say that out loud to me makes me feel so many things all at once that I don't really know how to sort them out, let alone explain them. So maybe I should just show you."

She swung one leg over the log railing, then the other, to stand right up against Jane, pulling the taller woman to her by the belt loops. Her lips brushed Jane's ear as she murmured so softly, "I'm your lover. I'm _your_ lover. I am so lucky, Janie, because I'm your lover. And you're mine. My love. My _lover_. My Jane. I love you."

Instinctively, Jane wrapped her hands around Maura's waist to keep her steady as she listened to the words and then rolled them around in her mind. _My lover… __**her**__ lover… __**her**__ Jane. Hers… hers?_ A smile graced the detective's face. "I like being yours, and I want to know what you really think about things. I promise to be better about not overreacting." Her eyes ran over the graceful contours of the woman in her arms. "I'm ready if you're ready."

"For you? Always."


	8. Chapter 8

The rain could be seen in the distance as Jane led the way up a trail that led away from the back of the cabin. She periodically stopped to check her surroundings before continuing on, holding back brush and branches to let Maura pass unharmed. They walked in relative silence for the 10 minutes it took to arrive at their final destination.

The thunder rolled in the distance and the sky was beginning to grey when they reached the clearing where two modest headstones sat in a relatively well maintained piece of land encased by a weather greyed log fence.

"There they are," Jane pointed as they neared the location. "Maybe I should have brought flowers or something? I always think about it, but then I forget when I get up here." She stopped just outside the wooden gate. "JJ was a fan of white roses. One of these days, I'm going to have to remember to bring some up here."

"We could plant some," Maura replied as she stood near where she thought the feet would be. "There are a few varieties of rose that will grow well even without constant care. I'll ask my gardener what she recommends." She wanted to go on, to say something meaningful, then stopped. It wasn't her place. This was Jane's land, these had been Jane's friends, and this was Jane's moment.

Jane opened the gate for Maura, glancing up at the darkening sky. "It's going to rain soon."

Maura tried out a word she had heard used in the little town. "Yep." No, she didn't like it. _Don't use that in the city_, she took note, _but maybe some of the locals will be comforted by the familiar sound of it._

"You're cute when you try to fit in with the locals, but hick doesn't suit you half as well as refined does." Jane chuckled as she followed Maura into the enclosure. "I like the idea of planting roses out here. Maybe a clinging vine that can grow up around the fence?" She glanced around her. "I think that'd look nice. What do you think?" She stood at the very foot of the graves, her arm wrapped around Maura's waist. The wind was picking up more, and the air was beginning to feel heavy with humidity.

Maura's head tilted until her temple rested against the taller woman's shoulder. For once, high heels were not granting her any extra height, and she began to appreciate the benefit of being a little closer to the shoulder where she liked to lean, the collarbones she liked to kiss. _Focus, Maura._"I think we should. For now, do you think it's better to clear away some of these dead leaves and branches first, or save that for afterward?" She couldn't quite grasp the idea of being introduced to people who were no longer there. If they were still there, then why would murder be such a horrible crime? Death was finality. There were no more chances, no ways to call back one's actions, apologize, or atone. No way to give back what was taken.

What she did know, however, was that _Jane_ was still here. Jane deserved to continue to be a person who kept her oaths, even with those who now 'slept' in the dust, and so she, Maura, would never tell her not to do what she had promised to that courageous, flamboyant, rainbows-and-unicorns youth who had told Jane to live her truth without flinching. Her job wasn't to try to communicate with those who had been blotted out of the world, but rather, to be the one who loved Jane enough to do what she would have thought was pointless – except that it was Jane doing it, and therefore it was worth doing.

"Later. We have the whole week, and we can't spend the entire thing in bed," Jane held her hand up to keep Maura from possible protest, "I know you're going to say something about us not being 'in bed' or that we can find reasons not to be 'in bed' or something. But I know you know what I mean. I also know," she said with some apology in her voice, "that you would think this is silly if it was anyone else but me, so thanks for humoring me, Babe. It means a lot." She turned her head to place a kiss on the crown of honey blonde hair she loved so much.

Maura did not deny the truth, but it also did not seem to overly concern her. She simply waited, content to wait as long as Jane needed, no matter what.

With a heavy sigh, she turned her attention back the simple granite markers. _Am I ready for this? Am I doing the right thing? Is this the right time? Does it even matter? Maura's right. The dead are the dead. If they can hear us, they can always hear us all the time, and, if they can't, then what's the point? I feel silly, but I just… I promised._ The rain broke. "Damn it," Jane grumbled as the light rain began to fall, cooling off the temperature and lightly stirring the plants around them, "maybe we should have waited. Sorry, Babe, I didn't mean for you to get rained on. You can run back to the cabin before you get soaked, if you want."

"I don't mind," replied the smaller woman, though she did pull the heavy brown barn coat closed. "You can't keep your promise to introduce me without me here. Take your time, lover." The word had become charged now, so much more than the pedestrian meaning of someone who merely loved, or someone who merely satisfied one's physical urges. "And if you need to come back to this tomorrow, or tonight, or whenever, that's okay too. This is about what _you_ need, when _you_ feel ready for it."

_What __**I**__ need__? I need you._ Jane nodded, ignoring the rain that made her shirt begin to cling to her. _I need… __to do this because I'm not going to feel right until I do__,__ even if I __feel__ a little silly doing it. Maura__'s the most incredible person I've known, and I'm __proud__ that she claims me as hers. I feel… I don't know. She makes me feel less… unwell about myself as a person and more… human, less like I'm going through the motion. She gives me a sense of peace; she's my __downtime__. Just being around her is a diversion from all the panic and bad things in my life. _Jane turned to look down into the hazel eyes so patiently watching her. _She's my… family and she has me completely wrapped around her finger. JJ would love it. _"You were right, JJ." Jane said, her voice barely audible above the gentle fall of the rain. "I found a girl who rolled me so badly that I can't help but admit exactly who I am. She _**is**_amazing." She gave Maura's waist a gentle squeeze. "Jason Johnson, this is Maura Isles, my girlfriend."

Awkwardly, though to be fair, no more than when meeting any new person in an informal setting, Maura responded, "I wish we could have met face to face. Thanks for being the friend Jane needed to get her all the way to this point. I'm sorry I wasn't your medical examiner." _What the hell. I talked to my dolls when I was three, too. I still talk to Bass and Joe, even though I know that Bass, at least, has not the slightest reason or __ability__ to understand me. This is for Jane. I don't mind doing foolish things for her. I'm __**her**__ fool for as long as she'll have me. Besides, in fairness, science has not disproven the existence of a deity, spirits, or souls. It just hasn't proven them. Who knows where we'll go in our explorations, once the physical world has yielded all its secrets to us? They __**might**__ be listening. I doubt it, but it's still possible._

Jane chuckled, kissing Maura's forehead. "It's okay, Babe," she whispered against the smaller woman's temple, "I know you don't think they can hear you, but thank you for humoring me. I feel better now. Let's get out of the rain. We can go find a fun way to kill time until it stops, and then I can take you out to show you everything that blooms after one of these storms. It's really pretty, makes everything look brand new," she shrugged, her very wet shirt barely moving where it was completely plastered against her well-toned frame, "It's kind of picturesque." She turned, holding the gate open.

"I like those plans, Jane. And I'm glad we did this. I think we should hold off on fun until after we're out of these wet, chilly clothes and into something dry and warm. Such as blankets. I'll lay a fire if you want, now that it's actually chilly enough to make that a pleasant idea. You can shower and make sandwiches." Maura softened and moulded her body to Jane's, pliant yet not weak against her, her soft smile matching Jane's, as they slid their arms around one another.

As the two walked away, Jane turned for one final look at the markers. Through the rain, they were becoming difficult to distinguish from the rest of the landscape, but she knew they were there. She smiled and mouthed a silent thank you in their direction before quickly turning back around to walk with her lover down the path to the cabin.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for reading. Googs and I really enjoyed writing in this universe, and we're glad you stuck with us through it. Your reviews would be <em>greatly<em> appreciated.**


	9. Chapter 9

The "A Little" series in order:

A Little Unwell  
>A Little Better<br>A Little More  
>A Little Downtime<br>A Little Peace  
>A Little Diversion<br>A Little Panic  
>A Little Family<br>A Little Closure


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